


The Purge

by leighwrites



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, People are gonna die, some slight racism from henry, violence and blood i guess?, what do you expect it's a purge au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: In 2014, following an economic collapse and rising social unrest, a political organisation named NFFA (New Founding Fathers of America) formed and overthrew the Government, becoming voted into office. In 2016 the NFFA devised a plan to help stabilise the American society and then in 2017 the 28th Amendment was added. The amendment established a twelve hour event called the purge which would start at seven in the evening of March 21st to seven in the morning of March 22nd where all crime was made legal and emergency services were unreachable.





	The Purge

**March 21st 2020**

 

Eddie Kaspbrak hated the twenty-first of March. It was the one night a year that he was unaware of the fate of his friends until exactly seven the following morning when Bill and Stan would call him to let him know that they’d survived another purge. And though he never had a need to worry about Stan (whose father had made sure to get the best equipment he could to keep his home safe from invasion), he had every reason to worry about Bill.

Bill didn’t like to purge, but he felt that he  _ had  _ to. Ever since the murder of his younger brother, Bill would join in the purge with two others in their grade. Eddie had never really spoken to Bill’s purge partners, and he doubted that Bill spoke to them outside of the actual event unless they were preparing for it.

Eddie didn’t want to speak to Richie Tozier  _ or  _ Beverly Marsh who seemed to relish in their one night a year of murder and theft. People who were so into the purge weren’t people he considered trustworthy. Except for Bill, who was determined to find the man in the clown costume who had killed his brother.

Bill would stop after that. He’d told Eddie as much. Every year Bill had seen him, but the man had always managed to find a way to escape from Bill’s revenge, and every time he did it was another year of purging for Bill.

“Where’s Bill?” Eddie asked, coming to a stop at Stan’s locker as he did every morning where the three of them would meet up before heading to homeroom.

Stan screwed up the annoying bunch of blue flowers that someone had slipped into his locker; a sign of support for the purge which Stan most definitely did  _ not  _ support. “I think he went to find that Richie guy.”

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek, fingers drumming against the strap of his backpack. “I hate that he does this every year. I spend the whole night worrying about him.”

“Me too Eddie, me too.” Stan closed his locker with a low clang, tossing the flowers into the nearby trash can. “Do you still want me to stay with you tonight?”

“You parents don’t mind?”

“As long as I call them when I get there and then first thing when it’s over. It’ll be a little easier on your sanity at least. One less person to worry about.”

“You know I don’t worry about  _ you _ . I know you’re safe behind iron shutters like I am. It’s  _ Bill  _ I worry about. He’s out there on the streets with Richie and Beverly every year… and what do we even know about them?”

“You mean other than Beverly being some kind of Molotov Mistress and Richie being able to get his hands on weapons he shouldn’t be able to every year?”

Eddie snorted at that, curling his hand around the strap of his bag tightly to adjust it. “That’s exactly my point Stan. How can he be friends with people like that?”

“Richie’s actually not that bad.” Stan said, shouldering his backpack. “I’m in a few classes with him. He’s actually pretty smart and  _ can _ be fun to talk to.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

Richie stretched out along the bleachers, eyes closed, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and his head in the lap of his best friend, Beverly. She had one elbow pressed to her leg just above Richie’s leg, a cigarette dangling from her hand while her other arm lay idly over Richie, fingers drumming gently against his chest to the beat of the song playing from his phone.

“It’s our night again.” She said, her voice soft and quiet in comparison to the music blaring from the phone.

Richie opened his eyes, staring up at her from behind the lenses of his glasses which only served to magnify them ten times bigger than usual. “You ready for it?”

“I’m always ready for it.”

Richie hummed lowly in the back of his throat. “Who’s your target this year?”

Beverly looked out across the sport’s field. “That creepy guy from the clothing store; Tom. He’s like twice our age and constantly hitting on me and I know he watches girls change in the dressing room. One less vagrant in the world. What about you? Who is Richie targeting this year?”

Richie raised a hand to his mouth to remove the cigarette, letting the smoke drift out slowly after it in a thick cloud. “Same as always. I’m helping Billiam again. I’m not letting that guy get away another year. Bill shouldn’t be out there on the streets alone.”

“I think it’s nice that you help him. Most people solo this and it’s every man for himself.” Beverly smiled, moving the cigarette to her mouth.

“You have help too. Who knew the quiet bookworm known as Ben Hanscom liked to purge. It’s always the quiet ones.”

“That’s not true. You never see that Stan kid out there. Or Eddie.”

“There are exceptions to every rule, Bev.” Richie said, moving a hand to his face to check his watch. “We should get going. We don’t want to miss our classes now, do we?”

School on the day of the purge was significantly different to any other day. Normal classes were cancelled, replaced with ones more fitting the day. There was a mandatory class in the morning revolving around the history of the NFFA and their crime holiday before optional classes took over. Those who were purging could stay behind to take optional weapon use and first aid classes while those who wouldn’t be taking part in the purge could go home for the rest of the day.

Eddie lingered outside of the room where the first aid classes were being taught after their mandatory history class, watching the nurse explain how to take care of a stab wound. Stan had already left for his extra shift day since the café was always low on workers on the day of the purge, leaving Eddie with a day of nothing to do before he would meet Stan at the end of his shift.

He’d thought about taking the first aid class the year before, just in case the worse  _ was  _ to happen during the purge. Just because they had iron shutters that covered the doors and windows didn’t mean that someone couldn’t deactivate them and get in. Maybe some classes  _ wouldn’t  _ be a bad idea idea after all for self defence.

The nurse looked up from her dummy, her eyes landing on the doorway. “In or out kid; pick one and close the door.”

With a deep breath, Eddie stepped into the room and closed the door, tossing his backpack under the desk near the door and taking a seat. Richie was one seat over, putting himself between Eddie and Beverly, a bored look on his face as he chewed on the end of his pen while nurse went back to her class. He stopped chewing for a moment, slowly turning to face Eddie with a grin.

“It’s always the quiet ones.”

Eddie returned his grin with a scowl. “I’m not here because I’ll be out there. I’m here in case someone out there gets in my house somehow.”

“It’s all the same. You’d have to purge to survive. Maybe you should take the weapon class too.” Richie suggested, his attention turning back to the nurse who was now showing them how to deal with a gunshot wound.

The café where Stan usually only worked weekends was surprisingly busy, though he figured it was a  _ last meal  _ deal. No one knew if they were going to survive their night of purging, and lived the day like it was their last.

“Stan!” Mike called squeezing between a group of people, a plate in each hand. “I can’t thank you enough for coming to help us  _ again _ .”

“What was I supposed to do, Mike? Let you suffer because half the staff is out there getting their shit together for tonight?”

“Doesn’t help that my grandpa’s off doing  _ god only knows what. _ ” Mike groaned, holding the plates up high as he squeezed by Stan. “Can you handle the register? Mom’s working her ass off in the kitchen and dad’s out here somewhere with me.”

“You got it Mike! Try not to drown in the sea of people.”

Eddie found that the day of optional purge classes  _ hadn’t  _ been as bad as he’d initially thought they were. He’d assumed that he’d spend the entire day getting weird looks from the other people who would be trying to work out why someone like  _ him _ was there, but after seeing someone like Patricia there (who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly) and Ben (who was probably one of the most gentle people that Eddie had ever met), Eddie realised that there was no ‘typical’ purger.

Beverly had called it a night of physical venting, and Eddie was starting to agree with her after hearing some of the reasons other people took part. Richie had known Bill when they were younger, and had been the first person that Bill had told about Georgie. Richie purged to help his friend. Beverly’s first purge had been two years before in which she had taken the life of her father. She had snuck out of the house during the purge (which her father had been taking part in), and had followed him to a secluded place where she had shot him before taking off. 

That’s when she had met Ben who had helped to keep her alive for the rest of the night before offering to help her the next time she wanted to purge. Ben wasn’t  _ really  _ a purger, but he did help some of the people who somehow found themselves shut outside to get home in one piece.

Beverly took out unsavoury people, and Richie helped his long time friend to hunt down his brother’s murderer, and then there were people who did it for just for fun. People like Henry Bowers who spent the purge classes plotting his plan of attack with his friends at the back of the room.

“Have you even run into him when you’re out there?” Eddie asked as they left their weapon class, Beverly walking with a bounce in her step.

Richie snorted, tucking his hands into his pocket. “Once last year.”

“How’d you get away from that?”

“I threw a trash can lid at him like a frisbee and fled.”

Bill let out a laugh, stopping by his locker to clear out his books. “That was the last thing I expected him to use as a weapon when he had an arsenal hidden on him.”

“Never think, Billiam, only do.” Richie said, retracting a hand from his pocket and holding the closed fist towards Eddie. “Here Eds. Just in case.”

Eddie held out his hand with a furrowed brow, only for Richie to drop a switchblade into his palm. “Richie -”

“It’s not like it’s the only thing I have. I’m hoping you don’t have to use it. You’re not exactly the kind of person who purges. It’s a last resort. Be safe tonight.”

Eddie nodded, quickly tucking the knife into his pocket. “Thanks Richie. I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”

“If I’d know all this time the best way to talk to a cute guy was to give him a knife I would have done this sooner.”

Beverly whacked him up the back of the head. “Focus on our plans tonight and not on someone you might never see again.”

Richie grimaced. “Did you have to word it like that?”

“It’s the  _ truth _ . You could die out there tonight, Rich. Just because you survived the last three it doesn’t mean you’ll survive this one.” 

Richie waved her off with a grin. “Yeah, yeah. See you guys at six-thirty!”

At Six that evening, Jessica Hanlon came wandering out of the café’s kitchen, turning the light off as she did and locking the room up for the night. Mike was sitting on the counter holding a mug of coffee in hand while talking to Stan and Eddie, the former of which was wiping down the counter.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Mike said, setting his mug down on the counter next to him. “I’m sure you’d rather leave for Eddie’s so you guys can shut away for the night than stay here and clean.”

“There’s still an hour before it starts.” Stan said, pausing in his task to regard Mike. “Eddie doesn’t live that far from here.”

“Still, I’d hate to think of the chance you’re stuck out here because of us.” 

“Mike I live a ten minute walk from here.” Eddie assured him, sipping at his own coffee. “We’ll be fine.”

Mike still seemed skeptical but said nothing, returning to his coffee and leaving Stan to his task of cleaning. At six thirty-five, Stan and Eddie left the café, saying their goodbyes to Mike and his family as they left while wishing them a safe night. Mike smiled and waved them off, telling them to be careful as he parents locked up the café for the night and pulled down the iron shutter.

“So what’s the plan for the night?” Stan asked as they veered towards the park; the quickest way to Eddie’s house. “Other than you worrying about Bill all night.”

Eddie shrugged, his arm bumping Stan’s in the process. “Movies. Any kind of movie that doesn’t involve mass amounts of people dying.”

“That rules out most action movies and a few disney.” Stan said, bumping Eddie with his elbow. “How about we start with Wreck-it Ralph and then just work our way up from there?”

Eddie smiled. He could always count on Stan to remember his favourite movies. “Sounds good to me. Thanks for coming to spend the night with me.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. This is what friends do.”

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Eddie groaned at the voice as Henry approached them, swinging a baseball bat idly in his hand with Patrick and Vic either side of him. “Shouldn’t you faggots be inside hiding?”

“Get lost, Bowers. We’re just going home.” Eddie snapped.

“Oh  _ are  _ you?” Henry asked, a smirk plastered on his face. “I saw you in those classes today. Thought you’d actually be purging this year, but I guess you went there to babysit your little friend and try and talk him out of it, didn’t you? Denbrough, is it?”

“ _ Move _ , Bowers.”

“I don’t think I will. You see your little friend Denbrough? I owe him and Tozier some payback. Figured why not go for you two. That’d be perfect since you’re Denbrough’s  _ closest  _ friends and Tozier seems to have a liking for  _ your  _ asthmatic ass.”

A frown etched onto Stan’s face. “You  _ know  _ that’s against the laws Bowers. Even you’re not stupid to violate purge law.”

“Yeah you got a point there.” Henry mused, swinging the bat up onto his shoulder. “But those rules are about to change in… five minutes.”

“Shit.” Eddie hissed, grabbing Stan by the wrist and shoving through the laughing trio in front of him.

“It’s hunting season, boys!” Henry called after them. “And you’re my prize!”

Feet thumped against the pavement as they ran for the park exit. If they kept running they could make it. They could get to Eddie’s house before the automated shutters went down and locked them out. They had to make it. They couldn’t be stuck out here when -

A siren blared as they emerged from the park, Eddie freezing on the spot. Across the street an electronic billboard flickered, displaying a woman in the corner of the screen as text started to scroll against the blue background.

“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S government.”

Richie handed a pistol to Bill, the two of them rising to a stand on the Tozier porch while Beverly tossed her cigarette to the ground and crushed it under her foot, reaching for the machete resting on the bottom step.

“Weapons of Class Four and lower have been authorised during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials ranking  _ ten  _ have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and  _ all  _ crime including murder will be legal for twelve continuous hours.”

Eddie felt his chest seize, suddenly unable to breathe and his hand curled around the knife in his pocket.  _ Just in case. _

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at seven a.m when the Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America; a nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

Three things happened the moment the woman had stopped talking and the screen had shut off. The siren blared loudly; echoing around the street, a gunshot sounded, and the sound of a crash echoed somewhere in the town.

“We gotta  _ go _ .” Eddie shouted, grabbing Stan by the wrist again and break into a run. If they kept moving and stayed off the main streets they could survive.

Twelve hours was a long time to keep moving when more than half the town was purging.

“Did you see them?” Henry laughed, swinging his bat as he walked through the main street of Derry. “There’s no way Kaspbrak and Uris made it home in five minutes. They’ll be in a panic and trying to hide. Spread out and find them. Radio me when you do.”

Pandemonium reigned over the town of Derry. The Purge had only started started ten minutes ago and the body count was already at thirty. A girl stumbled out of an alleyway as Richie and Bill ran up the street, clutching at her blood covered side with an equally bloodied hand. Neither of them stopped to help her, sticking to their rule of not trusting anyone they didn’t know during the next twelve hours.

There was already a cut on Richie’s cheek from where someone had tossed a knife at him, considering himself  _ very  _ fortunate that the person had bad aim and only managed to scrape him with the blade. A scream sounded and Richie flinched. It had sounded childish; like someone who was far too young to be out in the streets.

Someone who had been stuck outside when the sirens had started.

Eddie panted heavily, holding Richie’s switchblade shakily in his hand, blood staining the blade from where he’d struck out at the girl who had tried to hurt him. He hadn’t considered even for a moment that the girl would try to attack them. Someone had shot her in the leg at some point and he’d just wanted to  _ help  _ her. He looked to Stan who seemed just as shocked as he did, shirt ripped at the shoulder where the girl had tried to stab him.

Stan snapped out of his daze when he noticed the concerned look on Eddie’s face. “We can’t trust  _ anyone  _ out here that we don’t know. I know you just wanted to help her but...”

“I know, Stan.” Eddie wiped the blade clean with his shirt and retracted it before shoving it back into his pocket. “It was a stupid move. I thought after talking to Beverly and Richie today… knowing why Bill does this… I thought she was like them. She didn’t look like someone who is doing this for fun.”

“Let’s just keep moving. Maybe we’ll run into Bill somewhere.”

It was the first time that Eddie had considered Bill someone he might not want to see. Not tonight. He had no idea what an  _ in progress purge Bill  _ was like. Part of him didn’t want to find out, though part of him wanted to find him, and soon. They were safer in a group, especially if that group contained people who knew just what they were doing out here.

“Heyyy, Kaspbrak! You made it too easy to find you guys. It’s only been twenty minutes.” Patrick called, stepping out from the same alleway their previous attacker had fled down. “I should have known you’d make this easy.”

“Eddie -”

“Run!”

Patrick let out a laugh as they turned and took off up the street, tongue flicking out to run along his lip, reaching for the knife tucked into his belt before breaking into a run. “That’s it! Run! Give me the pleasure of the chase!”

“Stan, left! You go through the park and I’ll go down Neibolt street. We can meet up in the centre of town behind the pharmacy!”

Stan seemed unsure at first, but one fleeting glare from Eddie had him nodding and veering off to the left towards the park. All he had to do was keep running and make it to the parking lot behind the pharmacy and Eddie would meet him there. He could do this. He could handle a run on his own.

Eddie barely had time to register the body that crashed into him from behind; instincts taking over as he threw his hands out in front of him to catch himself as he hit the ground. The added weight of his attacker came down on him, arms buckling and sending Eddie sprawling onto the pavement of the street.

“Well, well, looks like I caught you. I gave you a second chance to do better and it looks like you failed.” Patrick growled, dropping his knife to the ground and reaching for his radio as he sat up, pinning Eddie in place.

Eddie thrashed about under him; desperately attempting to break free. “Get off me!” He had to get away. He had to get to Stan. He had to -

The weight was suddenly gone from him and the sound of the radio clattering to the floor reached his ears. Eddie took in a deep breath, scrambling to his feet. Chance a look at who had come to help him, Eddie was surprised to see Richie standing there, a steel pipe in hand and a barely conscious Patrick at his feet.

“Richie?”

Richie tensed at the voice and turned sharply to face him, surprise marring his face. “Eds? What are you doing out here? I thought -”

“Henry and his friends stalled us. We got locked out.”

“Shit. Okay...” Richie took a step back from Patrick, bending to pick up the discarded knife which he pushed into Eddie’s hand. “Keep hold of that and stick with me.”

Eddie nodded and followed after Richie when he took off up the street, not wanting to spend another second around Patrick; keeping a firm grip on the knife. Richie made a sharp turn towards the abandoned house at end of the street, circling around to the back and grabbing the broken fence for Eddie squeeze through before crawling through after him.

Now that they’d put some distance between them and Patrick they slowed down, panting heavily as they walked. “So… who - who were you stuck out here with?”

Eddie hunted out his inhaler, uncapping it and bringing to his mouth. “Stan.”

“Any idea where he might be?”

Eddie pushed the canister of the inhaler down, taking in a deep breath. “Behind the pharmacy. On the parking lot.”

Richie nodded, shouldering the steel pipe and idly drumming his fingers against it. “Okay, we’ll go get Stan, go meet up with Bill at the school and then you two can stick with us until this is over.”

Eddie tucked the inhaler back into his pocket, staring ahead as they walked. The sounds of screams echoed in the streets around them but the one they were on was void of life; the shutters down on every house and blue flowers tied to mailboxes. 

“Hey Richie? Why’d you help me? I thought this whole thing was every man for themselves.”

Richie glanced to him, shifting his arm to push his glasses back up his nose. “Honestly I didn’t know it was you, Eds. I just saw that Patrick had someone and… no one deserves that you know? Except maybe Patrick himself. He likes to draw this shit out. So how did they stall you?”

“They approached us in the park when we were heading back to my place. They were talking about how they owed Bill some payback; you too. Thought we’d be perfect for it. I shouldn’t have stayed there and listened. I should have just shoved through them and ran home. We only had five minutes to get back but the sirens went off right as we made it out of the park. Because I just stood there… Stan’s stuck out here.”

“Hey, its not your fault okay? It’s theirs. They played dirty to get you stuck out here. That was a  _ planned  _ move. If you’d tried to leave before they wanted you to they would have hurt you. But you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you home alive if it kills me.”

“I don’t  _ need  _ to be protected, Richie.”

“No, you’re right. You don’t.” Richie smiled, lowering the pipe from his shoulder and swinging it by his side. “But it’s better to have back up. Just in case.”

Bassey Park was terrifying at night at the best of times, but during the Purge that horror was intensified. Stan could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he ran, determined to make it to the pharmacy without running into anyone and meet up with Eddie. He’d already passed a group of people who were too busy torturing someone to notice him in the dark, and it had been the first time he’d been grateful for the almost pitch black of the dark.

Feeling the strain in his body from running, Stan slowed to a stop and panted heavily to catch his breath. There was no way he could  _ run  _ all the way to the Pharmacy in one go. He needed to collect himself and then try again. The sound of a scream reached him and Stan broke into a light jog, pushing through the strain and heavily thudding of his heart.

A sudden grab on his backpack pulled his legs from under him as he was yanked back, tossed carelessly into another person who grabbed onto him. The person who had grabbed him turned, and in the flickering light above them Stan realised that the person who had caught him was Henry.

“Well, well, look who  _ we  _ found, Moose. It’s our little  _ kike  _ friend. You know, Patrick managed to get hold of Kaspbrak earlier but that annoying Bucky Beaver helped him to get away. You? You’re not so lucky. You’re alone and without a weapon.” Henry twirled his baseball bat in his hand as he spoke, and it was only  _ now  _ that Stan noticed it was wrapped with barbs that glittered when the light caught them, flesh and brain matter stuck to some of sharp points. “Oh you noticed this? It’s just a little  _ realistic  _ replica of  _ Lucille _ that I managed to buy especially for purge nights.”

Stan could feel his chest tightening and attempted to wriggle out of Moose’s hold. There was no way he could get out of this situation. There was no way he would be able to meet Eddie. He didn’t stand a chance against Henry as long as Moose was holding onto him so tightly. Henry twirled the bat in his hand again, raising it up while instructing Moose to keep a tight grip on Stan.

Stan bent forward and shot back, his head crashing into Moose’s face. Moose let out a scream and released him in favour of clutching his nose, and Stan broke into a run, shoving by Henry as he did and knocking him off kilter. He had to get out of here, had to survive, had to -

“Get back here you fucking kike!”

“Stan get down!”

Stan didn’t have time to register the voice, dropping to the ground moments before gunfire echoed through the park. All he could see in the darkness was a leather jacket with a patch sewn onto the front with the anti-purge group flag, its wearer dual wielding uzis as they stormed the pathway of the park towards him, only stopping when they reached where Stan lay on the ground. The gunfire ceased and his saviour lowered their weapons, ejecting the magazines as they did. 

“You can get up now. They’re gone.”

Stan finally registered the voice as Mike’s, clambering to his feet and chancing a look behind him to see no sign of Henry or Moose in the immediate area. “Mike? You’re in the Anti-NFFA?”

Mike pushed one of the guns into Stan’s hand, rooting around in his pocket for fresh magazines. “My whole family is. We come out every year and help people who get stuck out here like I’m assuming you are.”

Stan nodded as Mike slammed a fresh magazine into his gun before trading it with Stan for the empty one. “Y-yeah.  _ They  _ made sure of that. Eddie’s out here somewhere too. We had to split up because of Patrick.”

“Do you have somewhere to meet?”

“Pharmacy.”

“Good.” Mike slammed the magazine into the uzi with a smile. “Let’s go. Keep hold of that gun you might need it.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be -”

“We’re a big group, Stan. I’m gonna take care of you and get you to Eddie.”

The constant screams and gunfire made Eddie flinch, his grip tightening on the knife that Richie had liberated from Patrick. They were back on the main streets now where the chaos reigned highest, groups of people attacking each other or running away from assailants. Richie was dragging the pipe behind him, the metal grinding against the concrete as he hummed a tune that Eddie knew to be  _ Bad Touch. _

“Bloodhound Gang fan? I should have known.” Eddie muttered, following Richie as he turned a corner towards the centre of Derry.

Richie grinned, his humming pausing so he could respond. “They have some of the  _ best  _ songs, Eds.”

“Righttt.” Eddie flinched when a gunshot rang out ahead of them. “How can you handle this every year?”

Richie fell unusually silent for a moment, a frown etching onto his face. Eddie hadn’t spent much time with Richie, but he already knew  _ this  _ wasn’t a normal Richie thing. “I made a promise to Bill that I would help him find the man who murdered his brother. As long as Bill purges, I purge. He broke the rules and killed a kid before the purge had started and somehow managed to get away from the penalty for breaking the purge rules. This is the one night that Bill can  _ actually  _ get his revenge.”

“I worry about him every year when he comes out here. I keep thinking… what if it’s the last day I see him. But… I never ask him to stop. I know why he comes out here. I know what he needs to do.”

“But it doesn’t stop you worrying. Well, you’ll see him tonight and you’ll see he’s more than capable of handling himself.”

“What about you? Can  _ you  _ handle  _ yourself _ ?”

Richie barked out a laugh. “Wouldn’t be out here if I couldn’t.”

“None of these people seem bothered by us.” Eddie noted as someone ran by them with another person hot on their heels.

“Some people do this for revenge so we’re not exactly at the top of their priority list. It’s the ones who do this for fun that you have to watch out for. They’re Manhunters. They love the thrill of the hunt and torturing people. Henry and his friends are just  _ some  _ of the people who do it. There’s the Anti-NFFA too. They’re usually out here looking for people like you who are just stuck outside.”

They passed the Paul Bunyan statue in the centre of town, and Eddie had never entertained the idea that it would ever look terrifying until now; illuminated by fires with a dead body hanging from a rope attached to its arm. He moved closer towards Richie who followed Eddie’s line of vision before slinging an arm around him.

“Eddie!”

The two of them came to a sudden stop, Eddie’s attention moving to the exit of Bassey park as a dishevelled Stan jogged across the street towards them; Mike close behind him. Eddie pushed aside his confusion to why Mike was there in favour of the relief flooding through him that Stan was okay.

“What happened to you?” Eddie asked, giving Stan a once over to check for any injuries.

Stan batted Eddie away with a groan. “I ran into Bowers in the park, but I’m okay. Mike got there before anything could happen.”

“You should keep moving.” Mike said, digging in his pockets for an extra magazine and shoving it into Stan’s pocket. “Bowers doesn’t like it when his yearly target gets away. Keep moving, stay in the shadows, and pray you don’t have to use that gun.”

“Don’t you need it?”

“I have more. Right now, you need it more than I do. I have to get back out there. Stay safe.” Mike gave Stan’s arm a gentle squeeze before taking off in the direction Eddie and Richie had come from.

“Okay, now we found Stan, let’s go get Bill.”

The shutters of Derry high were down, sealing it from attack and vandalism. Bill stood on the sidewalk outside, glancing both up and down the street. It was rare purgers bothered going near the school since there was nothing they could do to it, making it the perfect meeting place. The sound of running footsteps caught his attention and Bill looked for the source, spotting Beverly and Ben.

Beverly was bloodied and cradling her hand to her chest, wrist bent in an awkward position. “Sorry we’re late - where’s Richie?”

Bill shook his head. “Not here yet. What happened to you?”

“Asshole broke my hand. Ben managed to get him off me. Should we look for Richie?”

“No need to go looking for little old me! I’m right here!” Richie’s voice called from the other end of the street.

Bill turned, shock instantly covering his face. “Eddie? Stan? What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Bowers distracted them until it was almost time for the siren to go off. They’re stuck out here forrrr,” Richie paused, raising a hand to check his watch, “eight more hours. They’re armed just in case so let’s go find us a clown. Only eight hours until he gets off free for another year.”

“Not this year.” Beverly said, voice firm. “There’s more of us now. This is their last year.”

Stan looked down at the gun in his hand as they headed back for the centre of Derry, unsure if he’d be able to help when the time came. The town centre was more chaotic than when they’d passed through a moment ago, filled with people breaking into unprotected buildings and chasing down their targets for the night. 

None of them paid attention to their group, not even the woman who stepped out the shattered remains of the bank’s glass door as the alarm blared behind her, duffle bag hanging from her shoulder and a bloodied axe in hand. Eddie recognised her from the law office though he couldn’t quite place her name. Amanda? Amelia? He shook the thought from his head as she climbed into a car that took off down the street the moment she’d closed the door behind her.

They veered off in the direction the barrens, the activity dying out the further away from the centre of town they moved. Richie explained to Eddie that it was the usual place where they ran into the man in the clown costume; his favourite murder spot from what they’d seen. The first year of doing this they’d watched him drag someone out of a van, tossing them carelessly to the ground, and if they hadn’t shown up there was no doubt that the man would have killed them. 

Eddie hummed to show that he was paying attention, staring at the bridge ahead of them. The kissing bridge separated the town from the barrens, and in the darkness blanketing Derry it looked like a portal of some kind to a darker dimension; losing the reputation of being a spot where lovers met up the second his eyes had landed on it.

“Are you sure he’ll be here?” Eddie asked uncertainly as they neared the bridge. “I mean, he knows you’re onto him, right? What if he’s changed it up this year and picked a new place?”

“He’ll be here.” Beverly said, her voice nothing short of confidence as they stepped into the pitch black tunnel of the kissing bridge. “He loves this place and this year… we’re gonna get him.”

Eddie had thought that Derry itself was terrifying during the purge night with the screams and the frenzy killing and arson that had been going on around them but it paled in comparison to the Barrens which were all but silent aside from the trickling of water. At least the town had noise that kept them on high alert. The Barrens were feeling too peaceful, and that was what made it the most horrifying part of Derry. It would be so easy to fall complacent to hiding here and passing out for a few hours.

“Now what?” Eddie asked, looking around the immediate area.

Bill stared ahead, thumb clicking the hammer of his pistol back. “We wait.”

As it turned out, they didn’t have to wait long. A figure broke the line of trees that surrounded the barrens, dressed in a dirty should-be-white clown suit and dragging a young woman behind them by her hair, a machete in their hand. There were no visible wounds on the woman but her machete was covered in blood; suggesting that the clown had disarmed her and taken her own weapon from her. He tossed the girl carelessly onto the floor as Beverly handed Stan her machete and took the gun from him.

“You two say here.” Beverly hissed, raising the uzi. She broke through the tree line with the gun raised, Bill and Richie close behind her. “Drop it!”

The clown’s head snapped up, face hidden behind their mask and their head tilting to one side. He launched the machete at Beverly, Bill yanking her out the way at the last minute. The woman took her chance to escape as the clown backed away from her, crawling towards them, Richie reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet and pushing her behind them. He recognised her as one of the waitresses from the café Mike’s family owned by the name of Courtney; but he’d never imagined she was a purger.

Suddenly the clown was laughing, and it didn’t make sense. He was outmatched three to one and he was  _ laughing _ . “You’re early this year Billy-boy!” 

Richie felt his pistol slip from his hand at the muffled voice that came from under the mask. There was no way… it  _ couldn’t _ be. The situation started to gravitate onto him when Eddie and Stan were suddenly shoved out of the trees towards them. Richie turned sharply, planting his hands onto Eddie’s shoulders before he could fall. The clown raised a hand to the mask and grabbed at the faded orange hair before yanking it from his head and tossing it to the ground.

“I told you, Kaspbrak. It’s  _ hunting season. _ ” Henry announced, holding a hand out towards the trees where Patrick emerged, blood staining his hair from where Richie had hit him with the pipe and Henry’s baseball bat in hand. “And you fell right into my trap. I  _ herded  _ you. I knew Patrick would have you running and he’d split you up. I knew you’d tell Stan to take the park because there’s less activity. I knew Tozier here would run into one of you. I just had to lure him out. I knew you’d meet up with Bill and he’d bring you here. All I needed wait bait to draw you out of the trees.” He took the bat from Patrick and swung in loosely in his hand. “Six loser and one bat. This will be  _ fun  _ but who do I start with?”

“Henry-” Patrick was cut off by Henry raising a hand to silence him.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Tozier is all yours for payback when I’m done with the other five. Ohhh, that gives me an idea. We’re gonna  _ break  _ you, Tozier. Grab Kaspbrak.”

Eddie didn’t have time to register anything as someone grabbed him and heaved him from the ground. He began to kick out and wriggle around in Belch’s grasp as he was carried over to Henry, deposited carelessly on the ground. Patrick was quickly on him, one knee planted firmly into his back and one of Eddie’s arms held in a tight grip behind him to stop him from moving. One wrong move and his arm would snap. All Eddie could see was Henry’s legs and the end of the bloodied baseball bat.

“We’re gonna start with Kaspbrak here. You took a bit of liking to him didn’t you?” Henry teased, raising the bat. “We’re gonna make this nice and slow.”

The bat swung, and the next sound that echoed over the Barrens was a sickening crack. Eddie had jerked at the last minute, his arm snapping from the force but he’d succeeded in getting Patrick off him who now had the bat stuck into the back of his head. Henry growled, slamming his foot into Patrick’s shoulder and yanking the bat from his head; fresh blood dripping from the barbs.

Eddie clutched his broken arm to his chest, staring up at the dark sky almost in a daze. Richie was suddenly leaning over him, reaching out to grab his right arm and help him to his feet. A shot fired across the Barrens from Bill; a warning for Belch to stay back. Eddie pushed down the desire to vomit, keeping his broken arm pinned against his chest as they made their way back to the others.

“How you doing, Eds?” Richie asked, keeping him as close to him as he possibly could without causing any further damage to his arm.

Eddie let out a laugh, forehead slamming against Richie’s shoulder as his body shook. “What kind of a question is  _ that  _ Richie? I just broke my own fucking arm.”

Henry was laughing again, raising the bat to rest it on his shoulder, bloodying his costume even further than it already was. “Can’t believe Patrick went down to someone like  _ you  _ Kaspbrak. Well on the plus side I don’t have to take it slow anymore. Patrick? He loves torture. He loves to drag shit out. Me? I like to go right for the kill.”

Henry suddenly threw the bat in front of him into the dirt as Vic jumped out from the surrounding forestry with a shotgun which he held out to Henry. “Been waiting a long time for this.” Henry said, cocking the shotgun. “I’m gonna make you suffer, Tozier. Make you watch all these nice people die and they’re gonna know its your motormouth that caused all of this.”

It was hard to tell who Henry was aiming for, but Richie had a good idea on who his first target would be. The shot rang out and Richie dove for Eddie, shoving him into the ground. There was a scream of pain from the shorter boy as Richie’s weight landed on him; trapping his broken arm between them. Courtney had made her drive for Beverly, the two of them rolling off towards the water. 

Ben had ducked, and Stan had remained frozen to the spot, unable to move; barely flinching as blood splattered onto his shirt. Silence rang over the Barrens after the shot, the trickling water being the only noise aside from the shuffling of Beverly as she climbed to her feet. She looked over the group, checking each of them individually. Stan was bloodied but there was no wound. Fine. Richie was climbing to his feet and pulling Eddie up with him. Double fine. Ben stood upright, a splatter of blood on his arm but he was fine. Courtney clambered to feet. Fine. Beverly pat herself down. Fine.

Henry didn’t miss. She’d seen him shoot people before. That meant…

There was a sudden thud as Bill hit the ground. Eddie broke away from Richie and ran for him, crouching next to his friend and pressing a hand against the hole in his stomach. It was a futile attempt to help him and Eddie knew that. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, breathing coming out heavily as his chest heaved. 

A second shot rang out across the Barrens but it hadn’t come from Henry. Henry’s leg buckled from under him and he dropped the shotgun, grabbing at the bleeding wound in his leg. Four people broke through the trees, dressed in police riot gear with the anti-purge flag sewn over the police patch. A woman darted across the Barrens for Courtney, swinging her sniper rifle over her shoulder as she did.

“Courtney, are you okay?” She asked, hands moving over her in search of a wound as her friend remained unresponsive. “Courtney! Status!”

Courtney blinked and suddenly returned to the world around her, focusing on the woman checking her over. “I’m fine Emily. They - they got here before he could do anything.”

Mike was suddenly in front of Stan, snapping his fingers in front of his face to get a response. “Stan!” Stan suddenly moved, grabbing onto Mike and burying his face into his shoulder. Mike stumbled and let out a sigh of relief, curling his arms around him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Richie approached Eddie carefully on shaky legs, reaching out for his shoulder and retracting his hand at the last second. “Eddie?”

Eddie took in another heaving breath, bloodied hand curling into a fist against Bill’s stomach. “Richie I -”

Richie crouched beside him, placing a hand to Eddie’s arm. “What is it Eddie? Come on, use your words.”

The breath that left Eddie sounded like it had been punched out of him and Richie cringed. Henry had trapped him out here, had Patrick hunt him down, almost killed Stan,  _ herded  _ them here, and now he’d killed Bill. Eddie stumbled to his feet and made for the baseball bat, crouching to grab the handle.

“Eddie -”

Eddie didn’t speak, tightening his grip on the bat as he approached Henry. He couldn’t rely on Richie to keep him alive. If you were stuck outside it was kill or be killed. You couldn’t rely on people to protect you. He stopped in front of Henry who hadn’t moved, and Eddie knew it wasn’t through lack of trying. 

Henry was standing his ground. “You don’t have the guts, Kaspbrak. People like you? You don’t belong out here.”

“Until you trapped me out here and hunted me down like I was some kind of animal... I didn’t think so either.” Eddie swung the bat before Henry could register the movement, catching him in the side of the face. 

Henry toppled over to the side with a scream and a curse, still alive and now clutching his face. Eddie’s swing wasn’t strong enough to kill him with only one good hand to grip the bat with, but what Eddie lacked in force he made up for in quantity. He gripped the bat in one hand so the tip pointed down at Henry where there were more barbs located and slammed it down. He repeated the action even when the screaming had stopped, only stopping when Henry had become an unrecognisable mass of blood, brain matter, and skull fragments on the ground.

The rest of Henry’s group had fled, leaving them alone in the Barrens. Richie approached Eddie warily, exhaling in relief when Eddie dropped the baseball bat onto the ground. He turned to Richie, blood splattered against the front of his clothes and his face. “I want to purge them. All of them. So they can’t do this to people again.”

Stan broke away from Mike, staring at Eddie in disbelief. “Eddie -”

“It’s okay.” Richie said, looking back at Stan over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of him. You just go with Mike. He’ll take you somewhere safe for the rest of the night.”

Mike looked to the final woman of his group who had a set of katana criss-crossed against her lower back. “Sho. Go with them. Make sure they don’t get themselves killed and then bring them to The Falcon.”

“Right.” Sho ran forward, removing the pistol from its place on her leg and holding it out to Eddie. “Take this.”

It was one in the morning when they were running through Derry again, and the chaos was even worse now than it had been when they were looking for the clown. At some point someone had set fire to The Black Spot, the bright flames licking at the night sky. As they passed by it, Stan took an involuntary step towards Mike. 

Mike glanced to him and offered him a reassuring smile, bumping his shoulder gently against Stan’s. “Hey, how are you holding up?”

Stan shot him a glance and gestured to the blood on his shirt. “I’m covered in the blood of one of my best friends. How do you think I’m holding up?”

“Right, yeah. Dumb question. We can get you a new shirt.”

“If you think I’m going to go out there and stea-”

Mike was suddenly laughing. “Not what I meant Stan.”

The Falcon was one of the few buildings in Derry with iron shutters over the windows and doors to protect it from being broken into or set on fire like most of Derry seemed to be. Courtney was the first into the alleyway down the side where the fire exit was, performing a series of unusual taps on the door with her machete that Beverly recognised as morse code; though she couldn’t tell what the message was.

The fire exit swung open and another woman in riot gear stood in the doorway, looking up the alleyway as she ushered them inside. They were crowded into a small hallway with toilets one side and a door marked private on the other. In the other doorway was another woman who held a box, Mike motioning to it with a hand.

“You have to hand your weapons over.” He said, reaching for the uzi in Beverly's hand. “Not that though. That’s mine. You can take them back when you leave. The Anti-NFFA are… wary whenever we bring people in.”

Stan wasted no time in tossing Beverly’s machete into the box, watching in  _ slight  _ amusement as Beverly emptied an assortment of bladed weapons into the box and a small pistol. She grinned nervously, reaching into her shirt and extracting another knife which she dropped into the box.

“Where the fuck were you even hiding half of that?” Mike asked as he led them through into the main part of the bar.

Beverly beamed at him. “You don’t want to know.”

The Falcon itself was pretty empty. Emily jumped the bar with surprising finesse for someone so tall, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and slamming it onto the bar top before she vanished to look for some glasses. The woman they’d handed their weapons to placed the box onto the bar before circling around it, pausing to give Emily a quick kiss before grabbing the box.

Mike removed the riot gear, tossing the helmet onto a nearby table. He paused for a moment, debating something before grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head and holding it out to Stan. “Here. I told you I’d get you a fresh shirt.”

“Mike-”

“ _ Stan _ .” Mike stressed his name slowly, shaking the shirt. “I know you don’t like being covered in weird shit and I’m pretty sure blood and brain matter counts. Now either take the shirt and put it on willingly or I’ll get Courtney over here to do it for you.”

Stan stared at him for a moment, opening his mouth as though he were about to protest before grabbing the shirt. “Thanks.” He held the shirt tightly in his hand, removing his backpack which hit the floor with a thump, unbuttoning his own shirt and shrugging it off before tugging Mike’s over his head. 

Mike swept up the bloodied shirt, grabbing a backpack from the nearby table and shoving it inside. “I’ll get this cleaned for you. It looks good on you by the way.”

Stan could feel his face heat up, glancing down at the shirt that was three sizes too big. He felt like a child wearing an adult’s shirt. Mike let out a laugh, shaking his head and bending to pick up Stan’s backpack which he placed onto the table with his own. Stan  _ definitely  _ looked more relaxed now he wasn’t out on the streets or covered in blood.

Sho flicked her katana, splaying some of the blood from the blade onto the ground, a dead Vic lying at her feet. She hadn’t  _ wanted  _ to get involved with Eddie’s purge, but when Vic had stepped in to try and stop him causing any harm to Belch, she’d been forced to act. Her first assault on the boy had been to his hand, swiping it off in one fluid motion which had covered Richie in blood in the process, the dark liquid already drying on his cheek.

“I really didn’t want to do that.” Sho muttered to Richie, shifting her arm awkwardly to return the katana to its sheath. “But, if you had stepped in you probably would have gotten hurt and I think Eddie has suffered enough tonight.”

Richie glanced to her, pistol held tightly at his side. “If you’re anti-purge… why did you come with us?”

“We may be anti-purge but he deserves his revenge. We’ve all purged for revenge at some point before joining the group.”

Eddie approached them, holding the katana he’d been using out to Sho wordlessly. She took the weapon and returned it to its place with its twin, looking around the body littered street. It was three in the morning now and the tiredness would be setting in with purgers, the chaos finally starting to die down as they either started to head home or searched for a place to hunker down. 

There was a gust of wind and Eddie shivered, Richie removing his jacket and draping it over Eddie’s shoulders. “Do you feel better now you got all of them?”

Eddie nodded, leaning into Richie with a yawn. “‘m tired.”

Sho looked at him with nothing but pure sympathy. From what they’d told her while they’d been hunting out Henry’s friends, he’d had a long night and it was just a matter of time before the exhaustion kicked in. “Come on, I’ll take you to your friends. You can nap for a couple of hours and then go home.”

Richie slung an arm around Eddie to steer him, reaching up and ruffling his hair.

They found the rest of their group safely inside the Falcon when they arrived, placing their personal weapons onto the bar. Stan was sleeping in a booth, using Mike’s lap as a pillow while Mike conversed with Beverly and a half-awake Ben. 

Mike spotted Richie and Eddie, flashing them a smile. “You’re still alive. I’m glad. You should see Emily about a sleeping potion.”

Richie let out a laugh. “I think Eds is exhausted enough he can just drop to sleep standing. So...” He paused for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. “How many this year?”

Mike’s face fell serious. “Including Stan and Eddie? We tried to save twenty other people. Only ten made it here. The rest either died out in the street while we tried or didn’t trust us and ran off. Did you do what you needed to?”

Richie hummed lowly in his throat. “Yeah. The clown’s dead… Henry’s friends are all dead, and I’m never purging again.”

Beverly raised her glass of whiskey into the air. “I’ll fuckin’ drink to that. I don’t want to purge anymore. Get some sleep Rich’. I’ll wake you at six.”

Richie nodded, suddenly aware of how tired he was as he steered Eddie to the next booth. Finally releasing him, Richie crawled onto the bench one side, propping his back up against the wall with a yawn. He’d expected Eddie to collapse onto the other side for the night; surprised when he crawled carefully onto the same bench and nudged Richie’s leg to one side.

Eddie settled onto the bench, using Richie’s shoulder as a pillow and tugging the jacket around them the best he could as a blanket. Richie closed his eyes, suppressing a yawn as he loosely curled his arms around Eddie’s waist.

  
  


**March 22nd 2020**

 

Eddie had fallen to sleep at some point during Richie piggybacking him home after Beverly had shaken them awake at six, exhausted and bloodied from the night. Richie was equally exhausted despite the nap they’d taken, unsure of how he’d managed to make it all the way back to Eddie’s house while carrying him. 

As he came to a stop outside the Kaspbrak home, Eddie stirred, letting out a tired groan. “Richie?”

“Hey sleepyhead.” Richie greeted, a grin in his voice as he crouched for Eddie to slide from his back; being careful to mind his broken arm. “Here you are, alive and home.”

Eddie looked up at his house, a sigh of relief escaping from him. He’d entertained the idea that he wouldn’t see his home again, and standing outside of it right now felt so surreal. The iron shutters were still down, Eddie furrowing his brow as he raised his good arm to check at the time displayed on his watch.

_ 6:50AM _ . It was still too early for him to head inside. He didn’t doubt for a second that his mother had stayed up all night, nervously pacing her house and sobbing over the possible loss of her only son while his father tried to comfort her.

“What do we do now?” Eddie asked, looking up at the bloodied Richie.

Richie nudged his foot against the ground. “We wait for the shutters to go up and you go inside and get to a hospital. Hey Eds uh… can I ask you something?”

Eddie looked up at him, head tilted to one side curiously. “Sure, go ahead.”

“I…  Eddie… I want to take you out next week when this has calmed down and everything is back to normal.”

“That wasn’t a question.” Eddie pointed out, grinning up at him before he fell serious. “Richie - is it worth it? If this ever became something… next year -”

Richie had to suppress his laugh. Trust Eddie to think logically in the long run. “Don’t you remember the conversation I had with Mike when we made it to the Falcon? My purging days are done.” He assured him, curling his arms around his waist and drawing Eddie closer. “We got the clown. He’s dead.  _ Now  _ can I take you out sometime?”

Eddie stared up at him, tracing the blood that was splattered across his face and almost drowning out the freckles that dotted his skin, the smile returning to his face. “After the way you looked after me all night? I guess I  _ do  _ owe you one date at least.”

Richie opened his mouth to speak, the sudden siren making them jump. It echoed around them, and though there were no screens on Eddie’s street, it didn’t stop the woman’s voice from carrying over to them.

“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the conclusion of the annual purge. Emergency services will now be available to the public again. For those of you still alive, the NFFA wishes to congratulate you on your work and request that you stay out of as much trouble as you can.... until next year.”

The siren echoed around them again, an electronic beep startling them from Eddie’s house as the shutters shot up.

“I guess you should get inside before your parents go insane.” Richie said, dropping his arms from around Eddie and tucking his hands into his pocket. “I’ll see you Monday at school.”

Eddie nodded, grinning up at him. “Be careful going home. It’ll be your luck you survive just to be beaten by someone’s dead body.”

Richie let out a laugh, starting to walk backwards down the street as Eddie made his way across his front lawn towards his porch. “You know, I’d argue with that if you weren’t right, Eds! Stay out of trouble!”

“Richie wait!” Eddie called, jogging back across the lawn. Richie waited for him a few houses down, staring down at Eddie once he was directly in front of him and holding out the switchblade. “I don’t need it now, right?”

Richie shook his head, curling Eddie’s fingers around the switchblade. “Keep it. You never know when it’ll come in handy. Now go home you little gremlin.”

Eddie opened his mouth to protest at the name when the sound of his father’s voice cut across the street. “Eddie!”

Eddie turned and jogged back over to the house as he father rushed down the steps, throwing his arms around Eddie and clutching him tightly despite his son’s protests due to his arm. 

Frank Kaspbrak stared down at his bloodied son, hands pressing to his cheeks. “We were so worried when you weren’t back before the siren. We thought the worst had happened.”

“I’m fine dad... for the most part.” He gestured to his broken arm. “Richie looked after me.”

“Where’s Stan? Wasn’t he supposed to be with you? Is he -”

“Stan’s fine too. Mike took him home.”

Frank smiled, stroking a hand through the blonde matted locks of hair that belonged to his son. “Let’s get you inside, fed, to a hospital, and then rested.”

  
  


**March 24th 2020**

Being back in school after spending a night during the purge was weird. Attendance was mandatory to do a count of which students had made it through the night to help with the final body count, and as Eddie stepped into his home room, he saw Richie sitting at Bill’s former desk, a bandaid over the cut he’d acquired on his cheek, texting away on his phone

Richie looked up as Eddie took his seat, shooting him a smile. “Hey.”

Eddie returned the smile. “Hey. I see you moved seats.”

“Wanted to be closer to you.” Richie locked his phone, tucking it away into his pocket, gesturing to Eddie’s left arm which was now covered by a cast. “I see you paid a visit to the hospital.”

“I kind of had to.”

“How did your mother take it?”

“She was just happy I was alive. Dad too.”

Just then, Stan walked into the room with Beverly, the two of them talking quietly about something before Stan took his seat in front of Eddie who instantly recognised the shirt he was wearing as Mike’s. Beverly now had a cast on her broken wrist, taking her seat in front of Richie before turning to talk to him.

It was weird how fast things went back to normal, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.

  
  


**March 22nd 2030**

“Richie move your legs so I can pass before I break them.” Eddie snapped playfully, a pizza box in balanced in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other.

Richie chuckled, slowly moving his legs from their place resting against the coffee table so Eddie could squeeze through and take the seat between himself and Beverly. Across the apartment living room, Mike had taken the armchair, Stan perched in his lap with his legs draped over the arm and another pizza box resting in his lap.

It had become a tradition over the years for the five of them to get together on the night of the purge and hide out in Richie and Eddie’s shared apartment to watch movies or binge tv shows while the outside world plunged into chaos of murder, arson, and anything else that happened.

“Please tell me you didn’t mix these up again.” Beverly said, reaching over to grab a slice of pizza from the box now in Eddie’s lap while he handed one of the bottles of beer to Richie.

“I made them write Kosher on the box this time.” Eddie grumbled, leaning into Richie who slung an arm around his shoulders. “So what’s Ben doing tonight since he’s not here?”

Beverly took a bite of the pizza, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Ben’s staying home again. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving his mom alone. Not tonight. Hey, are you guys sure that -”

“We have only the best security in this apartment.” Richie assured her, tipping his bottle to his mouth to take a swig. “Eds  _ insisted  _ on it. But… if the worst  _ should  _ happen well… there’s at least three of us in here who can kick some ass.”

“It shouldn’t be an issue.” Mike said, propping his beer between Stan’s legs to grab a slice of pizza from their own box. “Not since they added the rule about houses, apartments, and dorms with the flowers outside, and I made sure you put those up.”

“You did, you did, so we should be fine.”

Eddie looked up at Richie, tapping his fingers against his own bottle. “Do you miss it? Being out there?”

“Nope. I have something better than purging and he lasts all year.”

Stan snorted into his bottle, Mike raising a hand to pat at his back. “Did you have to make that sound so gross?”

“Did you have to  _ take  _ it so gross?” Richie retorted, taking another swig of his beer.

Before Stan could retort, the program that had been playing on the television screen flickered, suddenly replaced with a blue background and the familiar purge announcer in the corner.

“This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S government. Weapons of Class Four and lower have been authorised during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Beverly grabbed another slice of pizza as Eddie held one up to Richie who automatically opened his mouth; eyes never once leaving the screen as Eddie shook his head in amusement and broke some of it off to pop into his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Government officials ranking  _ ten  _ have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. All buildings, house, apartments, and dorm rooms with flowers tied outside shall not be touched. Commencing at the siren, any and  _ all  _ crime including murder will be legal for twelve continuous hours.”

Stan yawned, lowering his head to Mike’s shoulder. Mike raised a hand to the back of Stan’s neck, idly massaging at the area.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at seven a.m when the Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America; a nation reborn. May God be with you all.”

The siren blared and the shutters over the doors and windows to the apartment slammed down with a clang; startling Stan who sat upright and looked around before realising what the noise was and settling back down into Mike.

Richie grabbed the remote for the tv, pressing the button to bring up the smart hub before loading their Netflix account. “Okay twelve hours of Brooklyn nine-nine, pizza, and beer starts now.”

“Make sure you turn it up.” Eddie said, sinking further into Richie’s side. “Drown out the noise from outside.”

Richie nodded and turned up the volume, twisting on the sofa to press his back into the arm so Eddie could lie between his legs, their half eaten pizza discarded onto the coffee table.

Eddie woke the following morning in a tangled mass of limbs with Richie, unsure of just when they’d moved to their bedroom. The clock on the nightstand read  _ 10:00AM _ , and the smell of Beverly cooking drifted from the kitchen.

Eddie detached himself from Richie with some difficulty, heading out into the hallway and passing the spare room where he could see Mike and Stan still sleeping soundly. Beverly looked up from her task of making pancakes as Eddie stumbled in, a bright smile on her face.

“Good morning!” She sang, plating up some pancakes which she held out to Eddie. “Post Purge Pancake breakfast as is tradition. We made it through another year.”

“Thanks Bev!” Eddie smiled, taking the plate and heading for the table. “You hear from Ben?”

“Yup! Everything is okay there!” Beverly cheered, returning to the stove. “He called me the moment the sirens went off at seven. He said to thank you  _ again _ for letting me stay here with you.”

Eddie pause mid-bite and shook his head. “We wouldn’t have you anywhere else Bev.”


End file.
